


Glorfindel of Imladris

by Hermine



Category: Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, not a new story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-19
Updated: 2011-11-19
Packaged: 2017-10-26 07:11:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/280233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hermine/pseuds/Hermine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Child, you didn't ask for a lover when the Valar restored me, but for a warrior."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Calling

Suddenly and unexpectedly pain came over him. Air breached his lungs. And light with all its brutal clarity burned his eyes and there were noises, millions of them, that broke his quiet solitude. He felt heat scrape along bones and coldness revived flesh that had long been ashes. Glorfindel of Gondolin, who had long been gone from this world, was formed again. Was formed from aches long forgotten, from tears that had been the foundation of many a song. Blood flew and fragile limbs radiated warmth again. But this had not been his choice.

The knowledge and experience of a seasoned warrior would be needed in a future not so far away, when an elf with a fea so pure and swordarm so fierce would drive back a Nazgul to protect the Ringbearer on his way to Imladris. This prophecy had led Elrond, Lord of Imladris, into the Woods of Lóthlorien, where Irmo himself was once seen walking in the dawn of all ages. The woods, so the myth stated, still enabled those seeking thruth to contact the Valar in their dreams. And Elrond had pleaded on Arda's behalf with Irmo. With Isildur's failure accepted, he had foreseen hope and doom, closely linked. He hoped to find answers in the Woods of Lóthlorien. He had asked for revelation of the one warrior who would fullfill the crucial part of the prophecy. And the Valar in their unfailing wisdom had not given the Peredhel the identity of said saviour but the elf himself; a legend restored for one purpose.

Glorfindel desperately clung to Mandos' Halls, but his soul was already embedded in a body. There was no way back. The mercy of the Valar granted him one last foray into the darkness and so he lost his consciousness when the impressions of the world he had willingly left were once again filling his senses. But before calmness lulled him, an etheral voice reminded him that in years long passed, a warrior had sacrificed his life in defense of his people. Fire had consumed the fea known as Glorfindel of Gondolin, and thrown him down Cirith Thoronath. That name stirred his memories, but he couldn't grasp the fleeting images of a mountainside, a hidden city and a lake so crystal blue that it rivaled the skies. It hurt to remember. Something pierced his ears. Sharp, unrelenting.

"Wake up!"

"Let him rest, Elrond."

"Nay, I want... "

The noise faded in the background when he felt himself cradled in strong arms and soft material touched his cold skin. Someone was stroking his face and he gave into the need to sleep. He was safe for the moment.

Glorfindel wasn't sure when precisely he woke from his reverie. Colours and shadows had slowly embarked into his calm white dreamscape, forcing him back towards awareness. With sleep retreating the memories came alive. He could recall vividly the fall of his beloved city, the fall of Gondolin. His kin had fought so hard, but their efforts hadn't paid off and his home had burned. Burned to ashes just like him. In their panic and confusion the remaining elves had followed Tuor up the mountain, through the secret passage. Only it hadn't been so secret for Morgoth's creatures already awaited them. A Balrog had blocked Cirith Thoronath and therefore stopped their flight. Glorfindel had fought the fire demon at the top of the mountain. Defeating it condemned him to death, but he he chose this fate realizing that if he failed those following him would die as well. He remembered the smell of sulfour, the burning heat licking along his skin and his determination to keep safe what was left of his homeland, the refugees of Gondolin. His vision cleared. The light still hurt, but less than before. Less than the past. There was mud beneath his shoulderblades and he felt soaked to the skin. There was something warm blanketing his body, a cloak maybe, but his eyes could only make out a greenish shape where his body should be. If Glorfindel was guessing correctly he was lying flat on the ground, his head pillowed on somebody's lap. No smell of fire on him and no sounds of flight in the air. Birds were singing and leaves were whispering a welcome to him. They spoke of `Lorien, though Glorfindel didn't understand why he should lie in woods so far away from his place of battle. Maybe the eagles had brought him here. Maybe Mandos` Halls had been a dream."I think his eyes are moving.

"Is he awake?"

"I'm not sure."

Voices. He was not feeling the calming touch of another mind, but the silvery sound of an elven voice. There was no necessity for sound in Mandos` Halls and hearing felt odd. He forced himself to remain motionless to deceive the elves guarding him. Foes, friends the Valar only knew whom he had to face now that he was here. Wherever in Lórien that might be. With all the strength he could muster, he pulled himself swiftly to his feet, surprising those watching over him. A snarl of dismay errupted from Glorfindel's lips when he found himself naked and without weapons, but the two elves across from him were armed. And obviously they were too busy staring agape at him to defend themselves properly. Wiping his blond hair from his face he took an agressive stance. His muscles protested their use, but instincts honed in another life took over and harshly demanded control of his body. A few glances told him that neither of the two dark haired elves were responding to his silent challenge and so he simply launched at the one closest. He caught the dark haired elf off guard, but judging from the ease with which his opponent blocked his punches he was no stranger to combat. Glorfindel was amazed that the other only reacted to his attacks. Yet he wasn't in the mood to contemplate something else, but how he got his hands on a sword. Soon he had the elf unarmed and pressed the swordblade to the stranger's throat. The other elf looked calmly at the scene before him, and Glorfindel could see him calculate: "My Lord Elrond?" he inquired.

"I'm fine Erestor." the warrior reassured his companion and grasping his hand over Glorfindel's on the sword he said. "Drop my sword. I mean you no harm."

"Drop his sword, Glorfindel." an authoritive voice echoed this sentence behind him. He knew that voice. It reverbareted through his every soul.

"Galadriel! Utúlien o'Mandos sinome maruvan. Si Morgoth-alantiero?" he exclaimed staring in awe at the Lady of `Lórien.

And Galadriel's voice resounded in his head: "Rest my friend, for that old enemy has been defeated long ago."

The sword fell with a soft clatter to the ground and Glorfindel sagged against the elf he had just threatened. His muscles finally protested and he would have collapsed if it hadn't been for the elf called Elrond.

"Get him to my talan." Galadriel instructed the two elves.

"How did you know we would need your assistance my Lady?" Erestor asked, while Elrond lifted Glorfindel into his arms, covering him with his cloak. Glorfindel hated being dependent, but his legs would not carry his weight any longer.

"Your Lord isn't the only one foreseeing events, Master Erestor. Besides the two of you were observed by my Galadhrim." She added with a smile: "They do not like uninvited guests on their territory. As you do know..."

Elrond raised an eyebrow at his friend and advisor, unconsciously shifting the squirming blonde in his arms: "How come?"

The advisor blushed and averted his eyes: "Haldir and I had once a disagreement over a lover my Lord."

Glorfindel tried to follow their conversation but was confused, because while he understood parts of it, most words sounded almost mutilated to his ears. His restless squirming finally alerted Elrond to the fact that the elf in his arms seemed more than a little disturbed.

"Galadriel?" Elrond asked. "Take him to my talan."


	2. Fast Forward To The Middle of Nowhere

Glorfindel was indignant at being carried like an invalid. And communication was impossible because the dark haired elf didn't seem to understand anything he was saying. Even glaring the dense elf into compliance had not worked. On the other hand his pride didn't suffer much, for they soon reached their destination and he was relieved to see that at least the architcture in `Lorien was the same since he had been here last. The language problem was odd, but maybe the two elves who found him had been from an secluded elven colony and he just didn't know their dialect. When the stairs up the tree were climbed he was carefully put on his own two feet and gently shoved into a talan. Celeborn was sitting in the spacious room, obviously waiting for him.

"Mae govannen, Cele-" before he could finish his sentence he was buried in a crushing hug. He laughed in joy, but the earnest expression on his old friend's face sobered him quickly. He feared what the Lord of`Lorien might tell him. Perhaps Galadriel's reassurance that Morgoth was gone had not been true. As his old friend clothed him in the attire of a Galadhrim, he relayed what had happened since Glorfindel had last walked upon Arda. And what he learnt almost made him faint. He had been dead for over thousand years. He missed Morgoth's defeat and the fact that his minion Sauron rose to power. Elves he had known were either dead or did were either dead or had long since sailed for Valinor. His beloved Gondolin had never been restored, his House had been extinguished and yet he himself was back on Arda. Celeborn talked for hours. In the beginning Glorfindel asked several questions and then he only listened. Galadriel had at one point joined them and completed her husband's tales. But the one question Glorfindel wanted to ask, he had not. His resurrection and the reasons behind it would have to wait for another day. Reading between the lines he had understood that his return had not been a mere miracle or a gift. He was back for a reason. Night had already settled over Lothlórien when Galadriel and Celeborn left him to his thoughts. And thus he remained sitting alone in the moonlight, till the morning broke.

The dark haired Elf he had threatened entered the talan with a soft knock carrying a tray with fruits. Glorfindel still sat on the wooden floor staring out into the open. He felt lost, out of place in an Age where his language was old-fashioned and politics involved him, even before he knew their true extent. The other slowly approached, sitting down opposite him and therefore blocking his view. They mirrored each other's stance, sitting crosslegged on the floor of the talan. The invitation to eat was delivered with a silent motion and Glorfindel accepted. Actually he was not hungry at all, but the other seemed keen on seeing him eat and so Glorfindel gave in. His reward was a stunning smile and they shared the breakfast in peace.

"So." The dark haired elf stated, his tone a little insecure.

Glorfindel suddenly realised that the other may be a warrior, but he was also very young compared to the elves around him. He had been fooled by ageless eyes that shone like the stars and Glorfindel saw kindness and wisdom in them far beyond the elf's age. "So...?" he replied grinning, for the other elf intrigued him.

"You are Glorfindel of Gondolin." Glorfindel nodded hearing his name.

"I am Elrond Peredhel." The dark haired elf continued and chuckled softly when he heard the surprised gasp from Glorfindel. "Umin quette mea. But I try anyhow. I volunteered to teach you common Sindarin."

And if the Half-Elf was surprised to have his arms suddenly filled with the blond legend, he didn't show it. He carefully hugged back and Glorfindel was happy to hear and feel that there was somebody willing to reach him. He was not alone in this new world.

Days passed and Glorfindel learnt the new common Sindarin easily. Partly due to his dedicated teacher and partly to his own determination to free himself of all dependecies. He hated to feel like a burden, but telling Galadriel of his concerns had only made her smile sadly: "We burdened you my friend." Elrond spent almost another night and day at his side and Glorfindel found out more about his young companion and the world he seemed to love so much. He was not the mere warrior Glorfindel had believed him to be, but Earendil's heir, a Lord with his own realm. Though young, Elrond had fought, killed and seen friends die. At first Glorfindel had been hesitant in befriending him. Many elves seemed infatuated with the idea that an elf had slain a Balrog, consequently died and came back through the mercy of the Valar. He found the hero worship more than annoying. It was rather disturbing that every elf he met knew his name and a short version of his life. Elrond was different, he was interested in the elf behind the myth and tried to help him in every way possible. Glorfindel was astonished when he heard from Galadriel that Elrond had sent Erestor, his chief advisor, home to rule in his place when they had started their language lessons. And very cautiously he began trusting the other. Days turned into weeks and were wrapped into months and Glorfindel became stronger. Celeborn and Galadriel had tried to comfort him, but he had told them that he lived in agony. He didn't need anybody to sort things out for him because he knew the truth. There was no confusion in his memories, no question unanswered because agony was living in absolute clarity of the world around him. Or precisely of what was missing in the world around him. He knew that his home had been so long destroyed that even the ruins he could mourn over were gone. He knew his lover was dead. No one had to explain the facts to Glorfindel of Gondolin because he had been around to witness everything. The memories seemed imprinted on his eyes like a wound that no elven healing ability could take care of. It helped to share his past with Elrond who had made similar experiences even if his losses hadn't cut him off from the world around him. Galadriel and Celeborn had tried to soothe his anger, but Elrond didn't. He simply listened compassionately when Glorfindel raved on how the world should have changed after his sacrifice. That evil should have left Arda and things should be different. For Glorfindel to accept that the beauty of a sunset had not changed while evil still resided in a world he once loved had been hard. But after some time the permanent shock, the hurt wore off. With Elrond's insistence on the present the anguish that cut his soul faded. His past was irrevocably gone and the novelty of missing his lover, his home, his life was gone as well. He just had the constant ache in his heart, the lacking gap in his soul to soothe. And for the sake of his lost world he managed to go on, to breathe and to laugh because there was not enough time to cry. The dead would have expected nothing less from him.

The day he sparred with Elrond and effortlessly knocked the sword out of the hand of his opponent was the day he learnt the reasons for his return. When the sword fell to the ground the watching Galadhrim cheered and Glorfindel bowed to their amusement and said: "And this happens when you underestimate old elves." He motioned for the audience to leave.

Elrond looked stricken and Glorfindel hurried back to him. "Did I hurt you?" he asked worriedly.

"Nay." The Half-Elf picked up his sword and cleaned it on his tunic. It was a fine blade made of mithril with a delicate design of Tengwar letters. Elrond had received it from Celeborn a few weeks ago for reasons unknown to him.

"Do you know what I had Celeborn carve into the sword?" Elrond asked and offered the blade to Glorfindel.

"Destined to fight another day." Glorfindel read aloud. "What does it mean?"

"Before I found you I had a vision of a warrior. An elf that would drive back a Nazgul to protect the one person who would be able to destroy the Ring of Power. I came to Lórien to ask Irmo if my prophecy was true and ifso how I could find the warrior."

Glorfindel paled and the sword fell to the ground: "No."

"I didn't get a name that day, but I stumbled across a naked elf in the woods. I found you, the warrior I had been looking for." Elrond picked the sword up again. "Take your sword."

"You can't be serious." Glorfindel replied horrified and ran. Somewhere in the forests he stopped, dropped to his knees and cried. He begged the Valar to have mercy and let him return to Mandos' Halls, but did not receive another answer but the trees comforting whisper. A young Galadhrim approached him hours later and took him back to his talan. His new sword was lying on his bed and clutching the blade to his chest he fell into an exhausted sleep. That night he dreamed of Gondolin, but instead of Ecthelion he saw Elrond die and not only his city burned to ashe but all of Arda burned. And his second death was not saving anyone. He woke screaming and spent the day and the next week in seclusion. He was not willing to face those he could only disappoint. The nights he spent in restless slumber or staring at the sword.

Until he woke to a soft shaking. "Move over." He heard Elrond whisper behind him. "You most probably woke the guards at the westfront with your last nightmare and as I'm responsible for it, I will help you through the night."

Dumbfounded Glorfindel felt Elrond slip into his bed. "Why do you believe that?"

"Let's see, you haven't had a good sleep since I told you of my vision and your following return to Arda. I wonder how I could come up with the idea that you're having nightmares because of that..."Elrond spooned behind Glorfindel in the small bed.

"You're wrong. I'm dreaming of old failures." Glorfindel buried his head in the cushions. It was bad enough to face these images in his dreams, he really felt no need to talk about them.

Elrond touched his shoulder: "Look at me?" Glorfindel turned, hiding his red rimmed eyes behind his hair. "Tiro Glorfindel!"

He gave in and looked at his friend. The one who had called him back from the dead.

"You did not fail in Gondolin and will not fail in the future." The Half-Elf insisted.

Glorfindel sighed. His friend would not understand the harsh truth. But he didn't resist Elrond's embrace. "I don't even have the energy to dream of him or my city. Only people with hope have dreams. All I have are memories and fears." he murmered.

Elrond determinedly pulled him close and kissed his forehead: "Antuvanye estel-i-cen." He felt protected in Elrond's arms. The prophecy felt less important when he was held. They fell asleep this night and all those following with Elrond holding Glorfindel.

The days were spent much like before, with Glorfindel catching up with the Second Age and Elrond learning first hand how to fight legends. And when the first year passed Glorfindel realised that Elrond was in love with him. He had feared that for quite some time, probably since he first felt drawn to the Half-Elf. He had unsucessfully attempted to ignore Elond's beauty, tried to smother his instinctive reaching for the love the other offered unconditionally. It didn't work. And so Glorfindel gave into the temptation that already shared his bed.

"So, isn't it a tad narcissistic to fall for your own vision?"

Elrond looked calmly at him, not raising to the bait: "I'm in love with you and not with my prophecy."

Glorfindel sat down next to him on the bed. "One could argue that technically I'm already yours. I am the warrior you wanted for fighting the future."

"But I don't want the warrior of the vision, I want you." Elrond pushed Glorfindel flat onto the bed staring hungrily at him. Not wanting to remain passive Glorfindel closed the gap between them and cautiously kissed Elrond. He tasted sweet, just as he had imagined. Elrond gently licked his lip and smiled when he felt Glorfindel stiffen at an unexpected bite. "I love you."

Nursing his bitten lip Glorfindel murmured: "You're not doing this because you feel obligated to me, right?"

In between small bites to his throat Elrond told him distractedly: "No, I'm making love to you because I want your hidden fortunes..."

"You what?!" Glorfindel sat apruptly and pushed Elrond down the bed.His lover grinned up at him from the floor:

"Sorry." Affectionately he added: "Mark my words Glorfindel: I'm in love with you. As in: I. Love. You. I can give you a list of reasons: I love the way you look at me when you wake up, I love your courage, your determination, the way you make me laugh... "

Elrond smiled brilliantly as two arms snatched around his waist and he was pulled back onto the bed. When they spent their passion Elrond held him and before Glorfindel could fall asleep he heard the other whisper softly: "I'm loving enough for the two of us."

He was watching Elrond playing with Celeborn and Galadriel's young daughter as Galadriel touched his shoulder:

"Can you spare me a moment?"

"Of course." Glorfindel smiled at his hostess. "But let me say this first: I thank you for taking me in. For feeding me, for letting me stay."

"How could I have not done right to you my old friend?" The Lady kissed his brow and then continued: "But your time here will soon come to an end. He will ask you to leave with him. Heed my words: stay with Elrond and cherish the love you are given. If you leave him you will come to regret it."

Glorfindel met her eyes: "I will try not to."

"Not to regret leaving him? Believe me, you will." The Lady said.

Only a few days later Elrond asked his lover to come with him to Imladris. And Glorfindel did go with his lover. Despite all he feared, he unfalteringly followed his call.

Glorfindel could feel himself settle down in Imladris. The place was charming, offering a beautiful landscape with mountains and forests. The river Bruinen built a natural fence and kept those unwanted out of Elrond's realm. The valley was protected by nature and of course by Vilya, the ring Elrond wore. And new ties started to bind him. From young guards who shyly approached him for combat lessons to Erestor who wanted his advice on various matters of tactical warfare- Glorfindel was becoming part of a community. He made friends and felt a sense of belonging that deepened whenever a new day dawned. But when night came the memories of another city haunted him. Elrond had kept sharing his rooms with Glorfindel in Imladris. But no murmured assurance, no warming touch and no promise could keep the voices at bay. At day he could control his fears, but in the gloomy hours of the morning nothing hurt more than his own doubts. That maybe he was substituting Gondolin with Imladris. That the soft kiss on his cheek, the warmth behind him was a mere shadow of the lover he lost. It tore into his soul to accept another's love. Elrond put up with his reluctant responses, accepted that there were many nights when he could not been held in turn. Glorfindel watched Elrond make each day a commitment to him without his reciprocation. And felt guilty, so very guilty. When nightmares kept him awake he gazed at the dark haired elf sleeping peacefully beside him. He felt caged whenever he looked into his wise eyes that spoke of a trust in the future he couldn't share. Glorfindel of Gondolin had failed once when it came to the fight for his home. No amount of songs on his valiant battle against the Balrog could mantle the harsh truth: he had not saved his home, his beloved Ecthelion or his people. He had failed them and the final battle against the Balrog to rescue at least the scattered remains of the citizens of Gondolin would have been in vain, if the eagles would not have guarded the battled elves after his death. Often he had asked Elrond how he could still believe in his vision, in Glorfindel of Gondolin. He had done almost everything to make Elrond see that the elf he wanted for a mate was an outdated warrior. An anachronism time would surely overcome, at least when he had fullfilled his second fate. In one of these nights in between old memories and the nightmare of a new failure Glorfindel reached the decision to leave.The morning after he woke Elrond with soft kisses. Seldom he was the one initiating their lovemaking, but this morning, it was him who took the initiative. Tracing Elrond's features like one would mark a map, trailing his body as if it was their first time, with awe and wonder. When they lay side by side afterwards Elrond cupped his face and wiped away the tears he hadn't known he was crying.

"You are leaving me."

Glorfindel had feared this discussion since the day he had followed Elrond to Imladris. They had both lived in a dream and on borrowed time. He had always known that one day he would pack his belongings, the few pieces of his first life he had been able to find and leave Elrond. This life had not been his choice. He could take no more of this stalling, this odd waiting on a foreseen fight. It was time to say goodbye because staying any longer would only break his heart. He sat up and left the bed, going through his clothes and packing a neat pile.

"Could I change your mind if I asked you to stay?." The Half-Elf looked pleadingly at his lover. "Stay? Please stay? I would offer you a home with me, a place at my side. You will be loved."

Glorfindel turned to the bed and snorted: "Pen-neth, you didn't ask for a lover when the Valar restored me, but for a warrior."

Elrond looked as if Glorfindel had slapped him: "But we will need you, I have foreseen this. I will need you!"

"I'm going to be at your side, when the time is right. And I will die for your world on that day." The blonde smiled ruefully. "Let me go. Let me roam freely till we meet again for I was not made from ashes to find rest. I was restored to fight. I'm not willing to lead a second life." And he started walking in the general direction of the door.

Elrond would have none of this and placed himself between the leaving elf and the door: "You need a home Glorfindel, just like everybody else."

"And you're the one to give me my home back, yes?" came the acid reply. "You have no idea how much I desire to turn the hands of time and live in mere memories. I have already lived a rich life and I lost it, as I lost my home, my lover and nothing can replace that. Not even you. I beg nothing of thee, but this: let me leave if there is any love between us."

And Elrond Half-Elven stepped aside, staring longingly at his love. "Leave."

Glorfindel didn't know what to answer, but tried to apologize anyhow: "You will find another one to love. One who is not weary of time and doesn't ache for a forgotten age." He had not expected that the younger elf had already fallen so hard for him. It was time to leave, before he could break the heart of the kind elf across him some more. And with the greeting of the warriors of old, he clasped Elronds wrist in passing.

"From one warrior to another, live in peace."

Elrond answered in old Sindarin: "Na care indómelya." and inclining his head he added: "Anar caluva tielyanna!"

Some part of Glorfindel realised in that instant that he had been around Elrond for far too long. In between leaving and loving looking back at his lover standing in the doorframe was the hardest thing he ever did. And he considered feeling his own heart break only fair. His heart was a fair price for the guilt he felt. He would never call a place but Gondolin his home, even if he had to live again.

In the stables he found a white stallion in the place his horse. "So, you are Asfaloth, right?" The horse nudged him affectionately and not for the last time Glorfindel wondered just how much Elrond could see of the future. "Seems as if we'll be riding together for some time."

He opened the stable door and left Imladris for good.The urge within him to run was strong and so Glorfindel travelled through the Second Age much like an elven knight who fought for the old ideals of honour. Glorfindel of Nowhere, he named himself and with the same restless energy he fought, he put the life he had begun behind him. His adventures became songs sung on many evenings at campfires all across Middle Earth. And while he wasn't keen on being called a rogue, that reputation still clung to him. Centuries passed with Glorfindel roaming the plains, hunting orcs and occassionally making merry with those who were willing to accept his unsteady presense. He was well loved in the realms of humans and elves, but whenever he was asked to stay, he declined and moved on. The yearning for the quiet beauty of a valley, edged between mountains close to the river Bruinen became stronger over time. And while Glorfindel fought his way through poisonous spiders and other foes Imladris and the Last Homely House gained a reputation of a safe place for all those seeking refuge, for those in dire need of rest. And its Lord finally found happiness in the arms of another lover. The Lady Celebrian had captured Elrond's heart and Glorfindel was unsure if he would be welcome at the realm anymore. The Elrond Half-Elven he had known was gone behind ceremonial robes. The warrior who had faced Sauron had retreated and in his place a healer and scholar ruled Imladris, a husband and father to three elflings. Galadriel's warning had come true. He had lost his love. But the longer Glorfindel of Gondolin led the life of constant travel, the life of Glorfindel of Nowhere, the more he realised that he had become somebody else. He was now Glorfindel of Imladris and whatever safety measure he had taken to prevent himself from finding a home in this second life had been in vain. Then one day he simply patted Asfaloth and whispered: "Take me home." And the beautiful white stallion obeyed and turned to the place where he had been born.


	3. History In The Making

The yard of Imladris was deserted when Glorfindel rode in. "I'm afraid there won't be a homecoming feast Asfaloth. Everybody seems to be hiding." Opening the stables he slowly walked up to his old box. He opened the gate and stepped back, astonished. Two pairs of identical gray eyes stared up at him. These had to be Elrond's sons.

"What are you doing here?" he asked friendly.

"You are not allowed to come in-" one twin started "-this is Asfaloth's place." The other continued with a stern look at Glorfindel.

"Good to know that my memory didn't deceive me. And Asfaloth should thank you that you kept his place vacant. Go in Asfaloth and meet Elrond's sons."

The stallion stepped inside and sniffed at the two elflings on his straw. Both twins stared at Glorfindel in wonder. "You're Ada's friend `Del." The elflings had easily warmed to the big white horse and petted his muzzles.

"`Del." Echoed the second twin. Glorfindel had raised his eyebrow at the shortened form of his name, but accepted it. The elflings obviously knew him as their father's friend which meant that he might be allowed to stay.

"Would you take me to your ada and nana?" The two elflings stared at him in shock and before he could stop them, they weaseled out of the gate, running as if he had threatened their lives. Glorfindel shook his head and was quite taken aback at the twins reaction. But as he could find his way into Imladris blindfolded, he walked on his own in the direction of the Last Homely House, the main house. In the hall he ran into Erestor.

"Glorfindel!" he was hugged, fussed over and hugged again by Elrond's chief advisor.

"Mae govannen Master Erestor!"

For some time they talked amiably and Erestor released a hundred questions upon him which he answered laughingly. Glorfindel ended his tales with telling him of his homecoming and the strange encounter with the twins. But then Erestor became serious: "You don't know it, do you?"

"What?" Glorfindel was confused at the hard expression on Erestor's features.

"Celebrian died." He said.

"What?" Glorfindel almost screamed. "She was making a visit in `Lorien and on the way back she was captured by orcs. Elrond could only retrieve her dead body. That happened over two years ago."

Glorfindel was shocked speechless. Though he had feared Celebrian's rejection of his presense in Imladris, he had not wished her ill. He fondly remembered the little daughter of Celeborn and Galadriel and when he heard that she had married his love, he had been happy for them. For both of them.

Erestor sighed. "He misses her. Every single day. - Much like he missed you." He added almost like an afterthought. "Are you done running Glorfindel? Are you here to stay? For I would keep you from him, if you only break his heart some more." The advisor glared at him.

"I'm here to stay for the remaining time." Glorfindel answered brokenly. "I thought it would end well for him if I was gone..."Erestor looked questioningly at him, but Glorfindel was already on his way to Elrond's study.

He opened the door and saw Elrond sitting behind his desk, almost covered from view from a pile of scrolls.

"I'm working Erestor, please leave." The Half-Elf said not even looking up.

"I'm not Erestor." Glorfindel replied.

Elrond knocked the papers all over the the small room in his haste to get up."You." He stuttered.

"Aye, me." Glorfindel forced a cheerful smile on his face.

Elrond seemed weary, tired: "What are you doing here Glorfindel? It is not time yet."

"I know. I come to pledge myself to thee, for better or worse till the end of Arda." Glorfindel said with sudden inspiration.

Elrond heard his declaration and sat back into his chair."Oh." The Half-Elf exhaled staring at his scattered papers.

"Shall I help you sort the papers my Lord?" Glorfindel gently asked.

Elrond nodded baffled: "Please?"

And with that Glorfindel became part of Elrond's house. His tasks varied greatly through the years and he accepted each of them. He became a fierce instructor to Elrohir and Elladan, but also their source for comfort and occasionally cookies. He brought life back into the Last Homely House, forcing its Lord out of his grief. The patrols guarding Imladris became his to command and before long his position was that of a seneschal. Yet he still kept his distance from Elrond, not wishing to invade his privacy. Instead of using his name, he called Elrond by his title, even if all of the court wondered loudly about it. Glorfindel didn't care. He became close to the twins, Arwen and even Erestor, but he did not allow himself the pleasure of Elrond's company. To his mind he didn't deserve it outside of council meetings and work related inquiries. Still Elrond wouldn't totally tolerate his choice. When night came and nightmares of old plagued Glorfindel, the Lord of Imladris quietly sneaked into the bed of his seneschal and held him tight till the morning broke. Then he left as silent as he had come and neither talked about it in daylight. This was the only thing remaining from their days as lovers. And still everything had changed. Life had taken its toll, and Glorfindel didn't mourn his return to Arda anymore. He didn't mind spending every day in the prospect of losing his life, on the contrary he rejoiced in all the beauty life offered, being alive as much as possible. The remaining time to the day Elrond had foreseen Glorfindel decided should be enjoyed. Often visitors to Imladris remarked that Glorfindel seemingly vibrated with life. Many even claimed that he radiated a visible light and remarks on it brought a smile to his lips.

Centuries passed and with them the time of the elves in middle-earth ended. Glorfindel knew his last day had come even before Elrond called him into his study early one morning in a time that would one day be called the third age. The air was filled with silence and Arda was whispering to him of dangers close to the frontier of Imladris. He followed his Lord's call and carefully listened to the instructions he received. Elessar, Elrond's foster son, was on the way to Imladris with four halflings, one of them being the Ringbearer. His task was to find them before the Nazgul could harm them.

When Elrond finished Glorfindel took courage and touched his Lord's face.

"I do love you, you know? I never stopped."

Elrond traced his lips with a finger. "I didn't either."

"I've never wanted to hurt you. I thought if I left you'd lead a better, a happier life."

"I had a life full of joy and pain, but Glorfindel I chose that life on my own. You were never responsible for my actions, for me falling in love with you or with Celebrian. My grief in this life came through my choices and I take it gladly for it means that I have been loved and loved in return with all of my heart." Elrond declared. "Stop feeling guilty. Just listen once to me: You're not at fault. Let go of the past."

Glorfindel smiled sadly: "Better late than never?" and kissed him.

The kiss was brief and Glorfindel forced back tears to make their goodbye less bitter. He wanted his lover to remember him smiling, not frightened of death. And with a bright expression he added: "So I'm leaving this world with a lighter heart than I stepped into it."

On the second day of his search for the halflings and Elessar Glorfindel and the Nazgul crossed blades at the bridge over the river Bruinen. He was not afraid to die and three servants of the Dark Lord had to flee under his fierce attack. He followed them west, meeting two other ringwraiths that didn't stand against him either. But when he finally found the small group around the ringbearer, doom was close. Frodo was severely wounded. He and Elessar tried to hold the group together, but they had to quicken their pace. The Halflings couldn't keep up with th hastened pace and soon the Nazgul were following them again. They had felt the ring moving to Imladris and its bearer falling under their spell. Elessar and Glorfindel decided to split the group, Glorfindel should ride Asfaloth with Frodo, and Elessar would follow more slowly with the other halflings. But before they could put their plan into making the Nazgul attacked. Glorfindel took Frodo in his arms and called to his horse: "Noro lim, noro lim Asfaloth!" and the stallion obeyed. The Nazgul hunted them mercilessly and Glorfindel felt their cold fingers reach for his charge. But every time he got Frodo away from them. At last they reached the river Bruinen but the ringwraiths kept following them into the water.

"Give us the Halfling Dead-Elf! Give him to us!" they howled. Asfaloth rose and Glorfindel raised his sword.

They would not get Frodo or the ring. He was the one destined to fight on this day and no Ringwraith could easily overpower him. Taunting his opponents he screamed: "If you want him, come and get him!"

The Nazgul screeched and forced their reluctant horses into the floods. "Give him to us!"

He felt the water of the Bruinen calling out to him, warning him to get back on land. Asfaloth climbed the riverside just in time. The waters rose and waves in the shape of horses broke free. The Nazgul and their black horses were pulled into the swirling waters and driven away.

He didn't wait for the water to ebb down because he felt the halfling in his arms fading. He was so close to Imladris, he was so close to fullfilling his task. The Ringbearer had to survive and so he forced Asfaloth again into a wild run up the last miles to Imladris.His arrival on the yard had been awaited and his charge was carefully lifted from his arms and into Elrond's. Erestor who helped him down Asfaloth hugged him and said: "Lord Elrond will meet you in his study, when his task is completed. Now go and dry Asfaloth."

Following Erestor's advice he got his horse into the stables and cared for the one friend who had truly walked the wild with him. He knew it would take Elrond some time to examine Frodo and heal him, but he was sure that Elrond could save the Ringbearer. They had been just in time.

Glorfindel walked the way to Elrond's study as if he was asleep. He was alive though he had completed the purpose he had been sent back for. The Ringbearer was rescued. And Glorfindel of Imladris was still alive! It didn't make sense at all. The Half-Elf sat in a chair near the fire place, staring into the flames. He didn't turn his head when Glorfindel made a rather noisy entry. It seemed as if he had expected the banging doors and the sound of heavy boots heading in his direction. For all Glorfindel knew about his lover, it could be that Elrond had foreseen his fight and his return long before they had met for the first time in `Lorien.

"You are home mellon-nin." Elrond greeted him softly.

The endearment drained Glorfindel. He fell to his knees in front of the Lord of Imladris and put his head onto Elrond's lap. He choked on the words he wanted to scream, and he remained silently in this position a long time, not even noticing the soft stroking through his hair and the fact that Elrond carefully repaired his loosened braids.

After some time Glorfindel raised his head and stated: "I.... I didn't die this time. I didn't fail."

Elrond looked calmly into his eyes : "I knew you would not."

And with that simple sentence he made Glorfindel understand that he could have prevented their heart break all along for the Valar had given him a second chance in restoring him. History was not repeating itself, history was in the making. He had not been bound to Elrond's vision, it had been his choice to fullfill the prophecy.

"I'm so sorry that I made you wait all this time. That I broke your heart over and over. That I wasn't there to protect Celebrian..." His frantic confession was stopped when Elrond kissed him.

"Stop it. This time it will be alright. We'll make it alright."

 

 

 

Final Notes:  
Elvish Translations:

"Galadriel! Utúlien o'Mandos sinome maruvan. Si Morgoth-alantiero?" - Galadriel! I have come back from Mando's Halls to this place. Has Mandos been defeated (fallen)?

"Umin quette mea"- I'm not speaking well.

"Tiro Glorfindel!" - Look at me Glorfindel!

"Antuvanye estel-i-cen" - I will give hope to you.

"Na care indómelya"- Your will shall be.

"Anar caluva tielyanna!"- May the sun light your path!

"Noro lim, noro lim Asfaloth!"- Run, run Asfaloth!

"mellon-nin"- my friend

source: Helmut Pesch, Elbisch (Grammatik, Schrift und Wörterbuch) Bastei/Lübbe 2003

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Secret Santa Challenge, though it turned out differently than expected. Lyric wanted elfslash, angsting and a sappy end: This tale was all I could come up with. Sorry! And one word to the Tolkien Purists: this is not the good Professor's view on things, thus the term *fan*fiction. I took liberties from canon in describing Celebrian's fate and the Nazgul Fight. To Les and Eva, my two favourite allies.
> 
> Beta: Khylea-thank you!


End file.
